


My name isn’t Kaminari (And other reasons I’m an orphan)

by orphan_account



Category: Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done, Aizawa and Kakashi are better friend than they'd like to admit, Aizawa would feel so embarrassed if he knew that Kakashi is older than him, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, And 1-A obviously aren't, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, But Kakashi's an adult, But also not, Dadmight and Dadzawa are very present in this fic, F/M, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, He's beatable, It really depends on his mood, Kakashi is technically a kid but oh well, Kakashi isn't OP, Kakashi regrets his life, Kaminari is Kakashi, Midoriya Izuku is a Mess, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, No Naruto characters other than Kakashi, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Past KakaRin, Reincarnation, Sharingan, Slight pop-culture refernces, So there's a power difference, Tired Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Todoroki Shouto Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Kakashi is homeless, Aizawa is grumpy, and Yagi refuses to let either live in peace.OR\The unlikely friendship between a reborn Shinobi and two heroes leads to one Kakashi Hatake, formerly Kaminari Denki, to attend UA high school. As per usual, chaos ensures.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 329





	1. Information you need before reading (And other things everyone'll skip)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Scarecrows aren't supposed to be Heroes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293103) by [karma_is_a_turtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karma_is_a_turtle/pseuds/karma_is_a_turtle). 



DISCLAIMER: Boku No Hero Academia belongs to the brilliant Kohei Horikoshi, and Naruto to the extremely talented Masahi Kishimoto. Anything you recognise belongs to them, and probably a fair deal of the things you don’t recognise, too. All canon-established characters and OCs appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, and you should, in no way, copy the actions of characters seen in this fanfiction unless it is explicitly stated outside the fanfiction that this activity is safe by a reputable source. In other words: These characters/worlds aren’t mine, and they’re not real, and you shouldn’t copy them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello fellow weebs, and welcome to MNIK! There’s a few things about fic-canonical changes and AU properties you’ll probably want to know, so I advise you read this short amount of text to understand. Thanks!

This version of Kakashi is essentially a canon-compliant semi-AU. Canon-compliant events still happened exactly the same, however instead of Gai convincing the 3rd Hokage Sarutobi to send Kakashi off to be a Jounin Leader, Kakashi continued with his ANBU duties for all years to pass until the end of this fic’s version of the finish to Naruto canon, whilst working a day-job as a Jounin Leader on the side (this includes forming team seven, and literally every other event of canon that wouldn’t have happened had Kakashi not been the teacher of the team). Whilst this had no massive impact on the canon plot (so I’m hesitant to call this a full-on AU), this version of Kakashi is slightly more ruthless in nature and his ANBU past will allow me to create certain interesting character conflicts later on. 

Another thing to note is that the Kakashi here died fighting Obito for the final time because he was so reluctant to kill his ex-best-friend. Whilst Kakashi doesn’t remember this until later on, this fact will become increasingly important as time passes. 

The final change is not to the Naruto canon, but instead minor changes to the BNHA one. In order to execute my plan for the plot, I needed a more complex backstory for Aizawa, which I have given him (This is important not to know the full details of, as they will be dropped as hints all through the fic).

I have also taken the liberty of adding the Vigilante subsection ‘Licensed Vigilantes’ to this version of canon (If you don’t remember the sub-groups of the original BNHA canon, they were essentially Vigilantism, Heroism and Villainy. There is a slight debate amongst some about whether the police should be added to this list, I consider the police a subsection of heroes). Licensed Vigilantes are generally Vigilantes who can’t become heroes for one way or another (they partake in the killing of villains, their quirk is a law-breaking one, ect ect...) so instead get a license as a Vigilante which says the government allows them to do law-breaking activities under certain explicit circumstances. It is important to note that while Licensed Vigilantism became a hit in America, Asia, and Japan specifically, have very few licensed Vigilantes, on average a number of three or four per Asian country.

There are also a number of OCs I will need merely for plot convenience as we don’t have a character to fill their spot in the manga’s current canon. For example, the tailors who make the hero costumes at UA or the governing politicians and their opposition. These OCs won’t be important to the story any more than helping the plot move forward at a smooth and steady pace. I doubt any OC will be seen more than once, and then perhaps be mentioned sparsely later on by various characters in order to keep the believability of the world. I hope this can be acceptable, as I too despise the use of OCs in fanfiction. If ever you find an OC is becoming too integral to the story, please inform me and I can simply kill them off or find a way to send them to an irrelevant area of Japan, something I’ll have in order for them to get out of the way of Kakashi, Aizawa, Yagi and the other characters of this fic anyway later on.

Without further ado, here is the fic! Enjoy!


	2. You talk too much (And other things I think but don't say)

Kakashi Hatake wasn't ashamed to have been found out by the super-muscle-man. No, his rugged appearance made his financial-status quite clear to any, let alone hero assholes. However, what Kakashi didn’t appreciate was that Toshinori Yagi wanted him to stop living the way he did. That was… Annoying.

“Young Kaminari… Someone as smart and strong as you deserves to go to school! You deserve a home!” Kakashi looked at the blonde man, his mouth curving into a frown underneath his mask. 

“I’m afraid I have a home,Yagi.”

Yagi crossed his thin arms, staring Kakashi down. “And where would this home be, my boy?”

Kakashi smiled with his visible eye at him, leaning back into the wall with a sense of nonchalance. “Right here.” 

Yagi’s left eye twitched. It was obvious that Kakashi was finally getting to him.

Took long enough. 

“Young Kaminari, you have bursting potential! Don’t you want to be a hero?” Yagi swept his arm around, as if to indicate something only there really was nothing to indicate other than a couple of bin bags at the end of the shady alleyway the two were standing in. Kakashi wrinkled his nose, the movement obvious even under his mask.

“Nope.” His one-word reply stunned Yagi for a few seconds, and gave Kakashi enough leeway to run up the wall he had previously been leaning on, and jump onto the roof of that same building. 

“It was nice to see you, All-Might, but I really must go! I’m sure we can continue this conversation at a later date!” He vaulted over the gap between one block of flats and the next with practised ease, disappearing into the night sky.

Yagi didn’t move. Either his ears were deceiving him, or had young Kaminari just called him…? He thought to himself for a second before smiling. Any boy at his age- barely 11 by the looks of it- with the mind to be able to discern his secret identity was in a league of their own. He knew his decision to ask Kaminari Denki to be his successor was a correct one.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kaminari Denki turned four years old when he awakened to his quirk. Unfortunately, that revelation was overshadowed by the fact that when Kaminari Denki received this apparent ‘quirk’, his brain decided to offload a life’s worth of repressed memories onto his poor child’s brain. Memories that were- well- not exactly his… In the broadest terms, at least. 

Kakashi Hatake found himself as a four-year-old child, realising that this must be some form of reincarnation- at least he hoped so. It made sense that he’d have died, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what had happened to lead to that…

When Kakashi Hatake- formerly Kaminari Denki- turned five years old, he accidentally awakened to his actual quirk (not just some repressed memories of people he really didn’t want to remember).

Needless to say, it didn’t end well. There seemed to be a certain… hatred for quirks that were more villainous by nature, and seeing as Kakashi’s quirk had manifested itself as an essential copy of his old abilities, sharingan, chakra and all, he was immediately singled out for being different.

Kakashi still wondered exactly how that turned out to be his quirk- a joke from the gods? A stupid coincidence? What he did know though, was that his new ‘parents’ didn’t like his quirk. Seeing as his family was relatively famous for their technology company, and the line had retained electricity quirks for decades through history, Kakashi understood. He’d ruined the family line with an admittedly ruinous power.

He was homeless within a week of receiving it.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Shouta Aizawa didn’t approve of the kids he was forced to teach at U.A. They were smelly, rude, and overall a rotten bunch. However, what Shouta Aizawa certainly didn’t approve of was one Mr. Yagi Toshinori asking him to babysit some homeless squirt.

“Why… Why? Just why would I look after some kid from the streets, Yagi? I can barely keep this year's students under control!”

The Yagi in question sighed, reclining further into his seat and taking his sweet time in thinking up a definitive answer. He spread his arms out in a gesture that was supposed to be welcoming but instead looked more like he had no idea what he was doing. 

“Young Kaminari has great potential. I want him to be my successor, but it’s impossible for me to start training up some random homeless child, isn’t it? You do owe me a favour, Shouta…”

Aizawa closed his eyes in annoyance. 

“This is all for you, isn’t it? You can’t find a successor, so you just choose some random kid off the streets. Has it ever occurred to you that he might not want to leave? At all? Because that’s what it clearly seems like to me. Just notify social services and be done with it. I can't take in a god-be-damned street urchin, and you obviously have no plans of doing so either.”

Yagi made no effort to correct him, instead just giving Shouta a sad look. “Can’t you just… Come meet him? You might like him!”

Shouta sighed, resigning himself to his fate. “I do owe you a favour…”

Yagi grinned, in an almost childlike show of pleasure despite his status as an older man than Aizawa. “Thanks, Shouta! I knew I could count on you!”

Aizawa refused to smile back. “Just… Don’t expect me to actually adopt the kid, y’know?”

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Kakashi Hatake enjoyed running. He knew it was out of character for him to admit to enjoying anything except his beloved Icha Icha book series- but he enjoyed running.

Running was an escape from his wretched life- both of his wretched lives- a way to simply train, and forget past experiences in order to forge the strength to experience new ones. 

Had he been anyone else, Kakashi knew, their body would have crumbled under the rigorous training. But Kakashi was Kakashi (ignoring the fact that Kakashi was technically Kaminari), and training was training. He wasn’t about to let himself get lazy. Even if the world was unlike that which he remembered, he’d refuse to let the fate of this new life be wasted.

So Kakashi ran, and his regrets from his former life were shoved to the back of his mind, leaving him to focus on more important matters. First and foremost: Toshinori Yagi. As Kakashi leapt from building to building, he couldn’t help the scowl from forming beneath his mask.

Yagi was an inconvenience. A large one. Just a year ago, he’d met the old man, and almost immediately, Yagi had started asking intrusive questions, asking why he trained so hard, why he had no place to live. It seemed with every growing day, the man became more convinced that Kakashi was destined to be a hero.

No. Not a hero. Never a hero.

He finished off his five-hour-sprint by jumping off the tallest apartment building he could, flipping in midair to land on his feet. Kakashi almost smirked. He’d never been a show off, but it did admittedly make him feel slightly more assured of himself when he realised that this new body was approaching ever-closer the standards of his previous.

“Young Kaminari!”

Dammit.

Yagi was back, in all his heroish glory, and this time he’d bought a friend. Yippee. Kakashi turned, raising his visible eyebrow. He scowled beneath the mask. 

Man, he really did find Toshinori Yagi annoying.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Shouta Aizawa was almost impressed by the kid’s aerial feats. No. Scratch that. He was very impressed- something that, coming from him, was a succinct rarity. He watched as the kid turned round, his face almost entirely masked spare for a single piercing grey eye, the eyebrow raised as if incredulous. His almost non-existent face was framed by spiky yellow hair, held up by what Aizawa could only assume was a distinct lack of gravity and a healthy dose of anime logic.

Aizawa had to remind himself that this kid was only- what?- eleven? He held himself like the military men he’d had to accompany more than once on missions, and the look in his eye was way more fitting on his person than it should any child. That was a look he’d seen before. The look of someone who knew what he had to do, and would do it without fail, yet someone who was haunted by his past actions. He knew that look all-too-well, because as a younger, slightly more motivated vigilante/barely-licensed underground hero, he’d been the same.

He was smacked out of his stupor when Yagi finally introduced him to the kid. “Shouta, this is Kaminari Denki-Kun.” A grin was on his face, the likes of which was not replicated by either of the two other people in this gathering on the side of an empty road.

The kid barely acknowledged him, his eye sweeping over his dark clothes and capture scarf before coming to rest on Yagi again. The boy -Kaminari- shrugged.

“What’s he for? That’s a military grade capture weapon. You finally gonna bring me in?”

He said it matter-of-a-factly, as if he didn’t care much. Almost as if going to the police was a simple inconvenience. He stuck his arms behind his head, and leant back, as if on a wall, balancing on just the backs of his feet. Shouta’s eyes widened slightly at his self-control. He had a feeling that this kid was smirking under that mask.

He decided, in the spur of the moment, to speak to the kid. Clearly things would go nowhere in the way of civilised conversation if he didn’t respond to the child’s question. “Erm- No. I’m Shouta Aizawa, an Underground Hero. Why don’t we… Go to a cafe or something. We’ll look less suspicious than standing on the side of the road…”

Kaminari didn’t seem to respond. He was gazing off into the distance, his interest lost from the moment that Aizaa had uttered the word ’hero’.

...And Yagi either didn’t notice or ignored all of this, instead smiling brightly. “I know an amazing place! They do these great little muffin-things…”

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kakashi Hatake had no idea how or why he’d been coerced into coming to this small corner-cafe, but what he did know was that this Aizawa guy was on to him. 

Aizawa regarded him in a more cautious way- definitely not in outright fear or apprehension- but with enough caution that it was obvious that he’d realised that there was more to ‘Kaminari Denki’ than he let on. He sighed, sinking into the booth seat he sat at, opposite the two heroes. A petite lady came over to their table and asked to take their order, unashamedly staring at Kakashi’s masked face. He glared at her till she turned away from him completely, looking slightly terrified.

“How do you take your tea, Young Kaminari?”

Kakashi jolted, looking at Yagi with his eyebrow raised. “I don’t.”

Yagi looked confused, bless him. It must’ve been nice to be so ignorant. Kakashi pulled at his mask. “S-Sorry?”

“Just as I said. I don’t. Meaning I don’t drink tea…?” He rolled his eye at Yagi and turned to the waitress. She was pretty- but a little too young for his tastes. He then had to remind himself that he was a kid. Kids didn’t usually think like that. Screw kids.

“I’ll have the house coffee blend. Add an extra caffeine shot.” He reclined, and considered putting his feet on top of the table, but Yagi would probably snap. The waitress smiled the thinnest of smiles, still looking terrified. 

“Do you… Take sugar with that, Sir?” Kakashi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Nope. I don’t do sweet things.” The waitress nodded, then hurried off as far as her legs would carry her. Kakashi smirked under his mask. Aizawa looked slightly worried. Yagi just looked plain confused.

“So… Young Kaminari! I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but- How old are you?”

Kakashi was positively bewildered, but then remembered once more that his body was a lot younger than his mind, and people actually cared about your age in this world. He paused for a few seconds, looking into the distance thoughtfully. That actually sparked a pretty interesting question. How old was he? He knew the date he’d been born on- it was the same as his first life-but what was the year…?

“Depends… What’s the year?”

Once again, Yagi was stunned into silence. The new guy, Aizawa, took it upon himself to answer. How… Kind.

“It’s the year 2256… Shouldn’t you know, though?” Aizawa was looking at Kakashi with suspicion, which the shinobi appreciated. It was people like Aizawa that reminded him there was still a reason to be proficient in all kinds of physical combat and jujitsu. People who would probably attack him if they had even the smallest of reasons. Interesting people.

“Ah, I don’t really keep up-to-date, if you get my gist…” He moved so that he was sprawled across the booth, back against the wall. “If the year’s 2256, that’d make me… eleven? I think?” He furrowed his brow.

“You think?”

Aizawa’s incredulous tone was refreshing compared to the constantly-happy Yagi. “Yeah… As I said, I don’t keep track of the date, and I’ve never been a fan of birthdays, so my age’s never really been a massive deal,” That part was at least true. “I do know the date of my birth, though. I’m pretty sure that it’s the 15th September…” He trailed off as the waitress arrived and deposited the drinks on the table without saying a word before scurrying off.

“Well, young kaminari! Drink up!” Yagi already had the mug of steaming tea in his hands, lapping it up like a dog. Aizawa visibly cringed, repulsed by his friend’s drinking. Kakashi looked between the two, his eyebrow raised.

It then hit him exactly why he’d been bought here. He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped his lips. Both Yagi and Aizawa looked at him expectantly. He casually pulled the mug closer to him, looking as if he was going to take a sip, but instead left it, pulling out one of the more erotic books he’d found in the local library. 

Both Aizawa and Yagi’s eyes literally popped out of their heads when he bought the book close to his face and began to read, bringing the mug to his lips at the same time as the book hid his face from the two. He finished the coffee quickly and put the empty mug to the table, pulling his mask up. 

“Kaminari-San… Is that what I think it is?” Aizawa sounded completely confused and slightly repulsed. Kakashi grinned beneath the mask.

“Depends what you’re thinking of. If you’re thinking ah- Adult content… Then you’d have hit the nail on the head.” He pushed the book across the table, completely ignoring the revealing woman on the front cover. “Whatever you did think, this is a classic piece of literature. It deserves to be cherished. You can borrow it, if you’d-”

He was cut off by Aizawa’s quite frankly disgusted tone. “No, no, I’m fine, thank you! Don’t you think to keep your reading to yourself, considering that we’re in public?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a good book. Besides, if people see it, they tend to avoid me, for whatever reason… Quite a useful tactic for someone as introverted as myself…” He winked at Aizawa, then realised that it would look like a normal blink to the underground hero. Damn that sharingan, messing up his attempts to annoy a man.

Aizawa gave Yagi a look of despair. Kakashi held back a laugh. “So, mind actually explaining why we’re here? I’m a busy ma-” He paused, a wistful look flitting across his visible eye. “I’m a busy kid, ya know!”

Yagi leant forward, placing both hands in front of him on the table. “Shouta wanted to talk to you, I believe.”

Kakashi didn’t miss the sly look Yagi sends Aizawa’s way, and the glare he replied with. He was almost tempted to run away to see what kind of argument the two would get into, but vetoed the idea with a concealed frown.

“Ah- Yes- Well- Uh-” Kakashi crossed his arms and slouched down even further than before. “Yagi said that it might be a good idea for me to take you in.” Once again, Kakashi caught the obvious jab at the other hero.

“Take me in, eh? And what would that entail? Because, Yagi, you know full-well what I’ve said to you on the matter…” 

Yagi blushed, looking worried. “Erm- Well- I-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Kakashi had disappeared again.

On the roof of the corner-cafe, Kakashi sighed. He really needed to find a better way to deal with things than running away.


	3. I don't make friends (And other untruths I tell myself)

Shouta Aizawa was beyond annoyed. As an underground hero, he had no need to be in the spotlight. He had no want to be in the spotlight. Hell, he had become an underground hero so he could escape the god-be-damned spotlight. So why- why in hell- was he standing in the middle of a press gathering?

“Aizawa-San! Aizawa-San! Is it true that you’re the pro-hero Eraserhead?”

“Aizawa-San! Aizawa-San! What are your thoughts on the leak of information from UA?”

“Aizawa-San, Aiza-”

Aizawa cast the most recent speaker a glare. He backed up, looking to find a method of escape. 

“Please, Aizawa-San! Is it really true that you are the pro-hero Eraserhead?”

Kuso. Aizawa crossed his arms, and gave the group of over-excited reporters a shrug. His eyes flickered back and forth amongst the crowd. There had to be at least fifty or sixty of these fools. A sigh escaped his lips.

“I have no comment on these allegations, and I ask that you wait until UA gives an official statement on the matter.” His voice came out cold and harsh, but it did not dent the enthusiasm of his mob of followers. As soon as he tried to move, they swarmed on him, one reporter getting so close that Aizawa had to hold back his urge to slug her in the face. He was a hero. Heroes don’t hit civilians, no matter how annoying they are. 

Sometimes he wished he was still a vigilante…

Aizawa jumped out of the way of a man dressed in a suit, thrown out of the mob. He landed on the pavement with a half-scream, but none of the other reporters seemed to notice or care. Aizawa gritted his teeth. Reporters were brutal. He hadn’t seen some villains with such disregard for their fellow human’s lives. 

“A-Aizawa-San…? I have to ask… Is it really true that you became an underground hero after getting apprehended by the police…? Even though you went to UA...!?”

Aizawa swung around, eyes blazing with fury. “Who told you that? That isn’t on my file!” 

The reporter in question, a blonde wearing a smart white suit, crumpled under the pressure. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. The other reporters quietened down, watching the showdown between Aizawa and this woman. A large man hoisting a camera on his shoulder maneuvered around in order to get a better shot. Aizawa took a step in the man’s direction and gave him a pointed look. The man switched off the camera.

“I-I-I-I… It’s c-common knowledge, Aizawa-S-San… If you look into the police databases, y-y-you can f-find a f-file…” She took a step back and fell over onto her back, looking absolutely terrified. Aizawa sighed.

“Get out of here, woman, before you say something you’ll regret.” The woman nodded and scrambled up, running away to avoid Aizawa’s stare. The crowd stared after her for a few seconds, then returned to bombarding him with questions. The cameraman switched his camera back on under the cover of a few reporters.

Aizawa sighed. Boy-oh-boy did he love the spotlight.

“Yo, Aizawa-San. Enjoying your fanclub?”

Aizawa recognised that voice. It had little to no urgency in it- so utterly calm and unemotional. A far cry from the fast-passed voices of the reporters. He whipped around.

A messy crop of yellow hair, a barely-visible face, and a single, hard grey eye.

“If it isn’t Kaminari Denki.”

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kakashi Hatake didn’t enjoy being in the company of people who irritated him. In all fairness, that was a trait that most human beings shared. However, Kakashi Hatake, being Kakashi Hatake decided that instead of letting himself get annoyed by the overbearing hero also known as Toshinori Yagi, he’d annoy the overbearing hero known as Toshinori Yagi.

And thus began a mission to make the unannoyable annoyed. 

Time: 2:30 pm. Date: 9th September. Mission Annoy Yagi is go.  
Kakashi swung onto the ledge of the windowsill, and sat there, watching the occupant of this particular room. Slowly, he pulled the window up when the man turned his back, and slid through the gap, into the room. The man turned round, a kind smile on his face.

“Ah, Young Kaminari! How nice to see you!”

“Ah, Old Toshinori! How nice to see you!” Kakashi leant on the man’s bed, giving the man an obviously sarcastic eye-smile. “How are you, Oji-San?”

Yagi shrugged, giving Kakashi a grin. “Fine, thankyou, young Kaminari. Have you rethought my preposition?”

Kakashi facepalmed. He really didn’t understand how one man could be so naive and forceful at the same time. His arms crossed, he shook his head, a groan on his lips.

“I’m not going to change my mind, Yagi. I’m perfectly happy as is.”

Yagi frowned, meeting Kakashi’s one-eyed stare head on. “I understand that you’re happy, yes. But you have no home, no school, and… I’m not happy with the way you are as is.”

Yagi looked almost saddened, staring at Kakashi as the boy in question scowled under his mask. 

“I know what you want, Yagi. You can try to tug at my heartstrings, but you and I both know that I’ll never allow myself to become a hero. Because I’m not a hero. I never will be.”

Yagi blinked and continued his staredown with Kakashi, the latter unfaltering in his harsh stare. He tugged at his mask slightly, a scowl forming beneath it. 

“I want you to be my protege, Kaminari. I’ve known you for- what? Three years. You’ve got the potential to be a great hero. The potential to save so many people. You haven’t even shown off your quirk to me yet, and I’m already impressed by your sheer physical and mental control.”

Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his shock of bright yellow hair. He almost felt sorry for Yagi, this man who seemed so desperate for a successor, so desperate for a way to pass on his profession and his title. 

By now, it was clear that Yagi knew, in his heart of hearts, that there was no chance of Kakashi becoming his protege. But at the same time, Yagi had no-one else to turn to. He had spoken about a student named Mirio once or twice- but even then, it was clear that the man was worried. If he passed on the quirk to the wrong person, the backlash would be catastrophic, perhaps even enough to ruin the symbol of peace forever.

Kakashi didn’t want to admit it, but he really was sorry for this man he’d come to know so well.

Time: 2:43 pm. Date: 9th September. Mission Annoy Yagi is off. Return to positions and await further instructions.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Izuku Midoriya loved heroes. No, that was an understatement. Izuku was obsessed with heroes. So obsessed that he’d study them for hours on end without sleep, trying to discover the ins and outs of each individual quirk, what made them tick, their trends in acts of heroism. Izuku knew heroes like All Might, Ingenium and Endeavour like the back of his hand. Hell, he probably knew more about some heroes than they knew about themselves.

All Might was Izuku’s favourite hero. Tall, strong, and always with a smile on his face. All Might was a hero of justice, a light in the dark, a way for Izuku to escape into a world of heroism that he had always wanted to join but knew that he never could.

Izuku Midoriya was quirkless. Heroes had quirks. It was a simple fact that everyone at school threw at him, every second of every day. He knew he was quirkless. What was the point in other people telling him such. All he ever got was the same words, stuck on repeat like a broken record. “Quirkless people can’t become heroes.”

He was told that, and he knew, he really did know that it was true. But even still… Izuku wanted- no, needed to be a hero. Heroism was all his life was made for. Heroism was what kept him going through the taunts of his classmates and the ever-looming issue of his quirkless nature.

So Izuku would be a hero, and he would prove everyone wrong. He would be just like All Might and bring peace to everyone else. He would save them all!

Izuku realised that he’d said that last thought aloud. Oops.

“Ah. Yo, kid.”

Izuku jumped two feet in the air, terrified. His mouth opened to shout, but then he realised that it was simply another boy, with yellow hair spiking in all directions but down, his face almost fully masked, perched on the fence he’d been walking beside. Involuntarily, his mind began wondering if the incredible balance he was using was a part of his quirk, and if not how the hell he was actually managing to stay up there?

“A-Aren’t you the- the same age as me?” He couldn’t tell exactly from the mask, but the boy was around the average height for someone his age, if a little taller, and what facial features he could see looked more childish than not.

The boy shrugged. “In some ways more than others.” He leapt down from the fence gracefully and crossed his arms, leaning onto seemingly nothing, almost floating had the backs of his feet not been firmly seated on the ground. He looked Izuku over, and the greenette shuddered. “So, you wanna be a hero, huh?”

Izuku’s eyes widened slightly. “Uh… Yeah. I… Yeah. I do.” He took a step back and clenched the strap of his backpack. Something about the yellow-haired boy standing in front of him made him uneasy. 

The boy raised his visible eyebrow. “Word of advice for ‘ya: Don’t. Heroism is overrated. You’ll become a victim of consumerism, and as soon as you outlive your usefulness, you’ll be made redundant in terms of popularity and unless you find some sort of successor.” He yawned, though the sound was muffled by the fabric of his mask.

Izuku was confused. He was smart- he knew that because all his teachers told him so, and he always ranked up high in tests, only ever beaten by the students with intelligence quirks. He didn’t show off about it- a high intellect was only ever taken notice of if it was someone who could beat intelligence quirked students without an intelligence quirk themselves.

That was beside the point. The point was that Izuku was smart. Not the most smart, but smart. Even then, he understood nothing that the boy had just said. This boy, who was also apparently the same age as him, was talking some intellectual jargon that Izuku had no idea about.

Izuku made a mental list of what he could gather about this boy:  
He’s really agile (Perhaps his quirk???)  
Looks my age, but didn’t properly confirm it (Older than he looks?  
Very smart (Intelligence quirk?? Quirk marriage??)  
Says I shouldn’t be a hero (Is he a hero? Does he know a hero? Family of a hero?)

“...The mumbling is slightly off putting, kid.”

Izuku jumped again. Ah. He really needed to stop that habit.

The boy eyed him, looking… interested, before giving him what he assumed was a smile, his eye crinkling into a curve. “Come chat with me some time. Heaven knows I need more people to talk with…” He offered a hand to Izuku, and, left without any other option, Izuku shook it.

“Uhh… I-I’m Izuku Midoriya.” The boy gave him another eye-smile.

“Denki Kaminari. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Midoriya-San. Now, I must bid you adieu. I’ve too little time, and two too many heroes to annoy.”

“W-Wait!”

But it was too late. Kaminari had disappeared, leaving Izuku all alone spare for the millenia worth of questions he’d accumulated over a short three minute conversation. 

...Heroes to annoy?

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Shouta Aizawa was not having it. Kaminari Denki was the most unreadable and agitating individual he'd ever met. And that was not an understatement, in the last year, he’d spent a startling amount of time with the kid, who had the annoying penchant to disappear just when he had the chance to ask him… Anything.

Kaminari was a mystery. Any information he’d tried to dig up had come up with nothing. The only Kaminari family that he could find was a middle-aged couple with no children, and a history of electric quirks- of which Kaminari didn’t seem to have. 

And what even was Kaminari’s quirk? His outstanding agility and strength was one contender- though it was possible for someone to train in order to get their body to that point. He seemed to have great instincts, able to know it was him when he approached without even turning around. He had no obvious physical deformities- which almost vetoed the idea of him having a mutant quirk. The only reason that idea could be possible was his face, forever masked.

Kaminari had never taken off his mask in the year that Aizawa had known him. Everytime that the underground hero had mentioned it, he’d either disappeared or just ignored it until he moved onto a different topic of conversation. Every time that Aizawa got a chance to eat with the young boy, his food would disappear in a feat of almost inhuman speed or the boy would pull out an adult book to absorb himself in. 

It made him wonder. Why Kaminari wore the mask. Why the boy had felt the need to be so physically strong, and why the boy traveled by sprinting through streets and leaping over houses. Why the hell was Kaminari even homeless?

Who was Denki Kaminari?

In all his years as a vigilante, hero student and underground hero all, Aizawa had picked up some pretty useful skills. Most of these he never used, but in a situation with an evasive target like Kaminari, one would prove to be incredibly beneficial. Namely: Tracking.

A while back, maybe a couple of years after he’d become a licensed hero, Aizawa had been in a situation where he’d had to catch the criminal Wolftooth, a villain who used his ability to turn into a massive hulking animal to attack and murder innocent civilians for his own enjoyment. He’d managed to chase Wolftooth into a forest, then lost the villain, meaning he needed to track a highly dangerous animal through a forest.

Long-story-short, Aizawa had to enlist the help of another hero, Hound Dog. The two had spent a few days in the forest together, tracking down Wolftooth and eventually apprehending him. He hadn’t been too far into his career, but teaming with Hound Dog had helped him learn many things about tracking and following people without being spotted. 

Definitely a useful tactic if, for example, Aizawa Shouta wanted to follow and find a young boy by the name of Denki Kaminari.

OoOoOoOoO

Kakashi was being followed.

He wasn’t sure exactly who it was, and he couldn’t risk looking behind him to try and catch a glimpse of his stalker, but nonetheless, Kakashi was being followed. Whoever his follower was, it was obvious they weren’t shinobi, or anything close. Even children had a lighter step than this man. He could smell him, too. His follower smelt of cats and coffee and something else he couldn’t quite pin. He recognised the smell, but for now he had to find somewhere away from people where he could confront his stalker.

His stalker was slow, that was for sure. His steps were loud, and he made no proper effort to conceal himself. Kakashi was almost offended by the absolute mockery of a stalker that he had accumulated. He’d had many the enemy, but never one so stupid as to never even think of concealing one’s own footsteps. He sighed, reaching the end of the road and turning on to the next, footsteps silent and speed indefinite.

As he reached the end of the final street, Kakashi decided to run into an alley on his left, which he knew had a dead end. As soon as he reached the wall, he used it as a springboard, jumping up and pushing off it with his legs, backflipping and hitting the ground in a fighting stance, facing his stalker.

Ah. Of course. The stalker had smelled familiar. Of course.

Kakashi gave Aizawa a one-eyed glare. Aizawa gave Kakashi a tentative smile. That was new, at least.

“Stalking me? Really Aizawa? This is Yagi levels of idiocy.” He leant back onto the wall he’d jumped up off of, sighing. “But then again, I expect Yagi would be even worse at being inconspicuous than you…”

Aizawa shrugged. “I should have known you’d see me… Then again, I might as well have tried…” He smiled slightly again. Kakashi wondered what he’d done to receive such a grotesque expression. Emotions really didn’t suit the underground hero. Now he considered it, emotion didn’t really suit him, either, when it was anything more than a crescent-shaped eye. 

“Mmm… I guess you did try… You failed twice as much as you tried, though, and I have to make it be known that your attempt to stalk me was rather pitiful.”

“...Your language is always so sophisticated for a twelve-year-old, Kaminari. I have more complex conversations with you than I have with people my own age.”

Kakashi suppressed a laugh, his eye curving into a smile. If only Aizawa knew. He crossed his arms. “So, why were you stalking me?” 

Aizawa paused, looking contemplative. “I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest with you. Just wanted to…. Uhhh… ” He held up both hands, in a sort of I dunno gesture. Kakashi shook his head.

“Honestly… You heroes don’t know how to lie…” 

“Really? I think I lie plenty well.”

“Did you just admit to lying, Aizawa?”

“You’re good.”

Kakashi stared Aizawa down, and the sort-of-older-man-but-not-really stared back. He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess I am pretty good.” Aizawa nodded.

“You wanted to know more about me, correct?” Aizawa nodded, crossing over to stand beside Kakashi. 

“Yeah, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.”

“Why not? You are a kid.”

“Somewhat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have a more childish mentality than I do, more often than not. You look adult, but it seems I am older than you in all ways but physically.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Kaminari, but I’m also not sure if I should completely agree or feel offended.”

“Perhaps both.”

The two laughed. It was a strange relationship, Kakashi thought, that of himself and this underground hero. He hated to admit it, but it appeared that he had made a friend.

“You know that Shota is a type of gay porn, Shouta?”

“Why do you know that?”

“... You’re asking me?”

“Good point.”

“It is indeed, Shouta.”

“...I can’t bring myself to be angry at a kid.”

“You complete asshole.”


	4. Your protege (And other things I don't aspire to be)

Kakashi Hatake had a love-hate relationship with heroes. On one hand, he hated them. Heroes were self-righteous, delusional idiots who believed they were higher than everyone else just because they saved other people. Saving other people wasn’t a profession. Professions exist for money. Heroes are only in it for the money. 

In any other world, being a hero was just someone who did something for the good of another. But in this world, the world that Kakashi had now found himself in for the grand total of fourteen years, heroes were commonplace, and heroism was a dirty profession caked in lies, greed, and saving people for the good of the individual rather than the masses. In short, heroism as a whole here was about pleasing the world rather than saving it.

On the love side… There were one, perhaps two, actually genuine heroes. Annoying heroes, yes. But genuine. Kakashi had to admit, he had his doubts about All Might. All Might, whilst being as cheerful as Yagi, had a drastically different personality to his alter-ego at some points. A personality that, in no way, did Kakashi prefer. It was almost as if Yagi was trying to adhere to the public’s ideas of him- and that, along with the whole symbol of peace deal he had going, was slightly aggravating at the best of times.

Shouta, though, was a pretty great guy. He was a reluctant teacher, and an even more reluctant friend, and one of the few other humans that Kakashi had been in contact with during the period between his tenth and fourteenth birthday. Yagi, of course, perpetually bothered him about the topic of proteges and heroes and successors and whatnot, but it seemed easy to tell that Shouta Aizawa just wanted the best for him.

Izuku Midoriya, funnily enough, was the third person he’d kept in regular contact with, more out of mere curiosity rather than any other outside force, and even he found the young hero fanboy to be rather endearing at the best (and worst) of times. Izuku could never bring himself to be mean to another individual, even if it was Katsuki Bakugou, a boy who’d been bothering him since kindergarten.

Another interesting thing about Izuku was that he was quirkless.

Quirkless people weren’t rare in this world- in fact, far from it. However, Japan as a specific country had once had anti-quirkless laws, sending any quirkless children out of the country. In fact, while the world was 20% quirkless, Japan was 0.05% quirkless, will any and all quirkless people being too young to be very well-known. So Kakashi getting to meet an actual Japanese quirkless person was like seeing a tiger in the wild: They’d pretty much died out, but everyone’s interested in them. However, most times, that interest didn’t manifest in friendship for Izuku, and Kakashi started seeing the results of bullying littered all over his body.

So, naturally, Kakashi gave Izuku a few self defence lessons.

It had started as a one-time thing, but Izuku was so anxious to learn, so anxious to be a hero. Kakashi began to realise that he would be the perfect target for Yagi’s protege, especially considering the fact that All Might was his favourite hero.

So Kakashi taught Izuku martial arts, a skill that would be penty enough for Izuku to defend himself, and started getting Izuku to go on ten-mile-runs, and lift weights. If Yagi wanted a body that could withstand the quirk, Kakashi would help Izuku build one.

Because who better to receive a quirk… Than a quirkless person?

OoOoOoOoO

Shouta Aizawa wasn’t sure what he found so endearing about Denki Kaminari. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the way that the boy treated him as a friend rather than a teacher, or an older guy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the obvious emotion he could express without removing the mask he constantly wore. He wasn’t sure if it was simply the fact that Kaminari reminded him so much of himself. Yeah, the kid was younger, snarkier, probably far more physically strong and agile, but Kaminari had similar ideals to those he’d always upheld.

Kaminari refused to be a hero. It was a fact about him that Aizawa was sure anyone who knew him understood. He refused to market the deed of saving other people as for-profit, and Aizawa completely agreed. Heroism was a stupid profession. He was an underground hero: someone who saves people from the shadows and takes undercover missions, and never got any recognition, or money, most of the time. Kaminari had called people like him ‘True heroes’.

While he was flattered, Aizawa couldn’t agree. The definition of heroes was a profession. That was how it had always been since the 21st century. That was how it always would be. Kaminari was adamant that heroes shouldn’t receive money simply for being good people, that heroism was unpaid and out of the goodness of one’s heart. But Kaminari’s definition of heroism just didn’t fit with the definition that had been present for hundreds of years, a definition which everyone was taught as a kid.

-  
“Well, I didn’t learn about heroism as a kid.” Kaminari replied, tugging at his mask.

“That’s because you never went to school.”

“Good Point.”  
-

Aizawa had told Kaminari everything about himself following UA’s breach of information, even the things that weren’t as commonplace. His time as a vigilante, becoming a hero, training at UA itself, even the short period of time where he was just another civilian.

What Kaminari had told Aizawa was enough to count on one hand. Aizawa tried not to be pushy about receiving information- perhaps he’d grown up in an abusive household, one where he was forced to grow up so fast. Or perhaps he was an orphan. Or perhaps a runaway. Every time Aizawa came to the subject of parents in their conversations, Kaminari ignored him.

Kaminari was a mystery. A mystery that Aizawa respected the privacy of, yes, but still a mystery. Not even Yagi had figured out anything more than he had, and Yagi was one of the most forceful people Aizawa had ever met.

-  
“He wants me to be his protege, y’know? Because I’m ‘destined for heroism’ and all.”

“And what do you think about that?”

Kaminari sighed, giving Aizawa a tired look. “It’s obvious, is it not? You know me far too well not to deduce that I want no part in the ‘Symbol of Peace’s’ heroism.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You really don’t think you’re the hero type, huh?”

“Depends what you classify as the ‘hero type’.”  
-

Aizawa didn’t agree with Kaminari. The boy was obviously the kind of person to be an underground hero, hell, maybe even a licensed Vigilante.

Licensed Vigilantes were a rarity in Japan, but in America, they’d been a massive hit. The idea was that vigilantes, which were essentially heroes that didn’t obey hero laws, went through a test, and got a license to evade the law, or a license to kill, or whatever kind of license they needed. That way, they could have easier access to files and areas and whatever else they needed. There were even famous vigilantes in America, a pretty impressive feat. 

When Aizawa himself had applied for a license as a young vigilante, the office had told him that it would make more sense to just get a full hero license. His actions were mainly lawful anyway, and if he worked as an underground hero, he’d get the best of both worlds.

Aizawa could definitely see Kaminari as a vigilante. The issue was that he could see Kaminari as a villain, too. 

With Kaminari’s skills, any of the three sections of large-scale quirk use (Villany, Vigilantism and Heroism) could steal him. Aizawa didn’t want him to be swayed. He knew that Kaminari acted older than he looked, but in truth he was still a kid. A kid that didn’t have a home, or parents, or any proper semblance of a happy life. And kids like that always ended up being taken by the villains and turned against society.

Aizawa had grown fond for Kaminari. It was an amalgamation of a sort of repressed parental instinct and the bond of friendship. Aizawa didn’t want to see Kaminari’s skill go to waste.

-  
“Hey, Denki.”

“Yo. What’s up?”

“...I’ve added you to the recommendations for the UA entrance exam.”

Kaminari’s eye widened, and he tensed slightly. “You’re joking. That’s a hero school, correct?” 

“Just try it… You never know.”  
-

Aizawa shuddered. Well, only time would tell. 

OoOoOoOoO

Toshinori Yagi wouldn’t give up. Kaminari Denki was the perfect protege, and the hero was determined to make him realise. Kaminari had the strength, the morals, the ability to become the perfect symbol of peace.

He’d already convinced Aizawa to speak to Nedzu about young Kaminari for the UA recommendation exams, Yagi himself being unable to personally recommend anyone. Kaminari hadn’t figured out that he’d put him up to it, thank lord. If he had… Well, Yagi could see the young boy doing something… Unsavoury.

He’d managed to coerce Kaminari into coming with him on a trip, for once, rather than the yellow-haired boy ambushing him instead. Although, he wasn’t entirely sure why Kaminari had let himself be coerced. Yagi knew better than most that he was a particularly evasive individual when he wanted to be. 

“So, Yagi. What exactly are we doing, today?” Kaminari was leaning against a wall again. 

What was it with Kaminari and leaning? He would even lean when there wasn’t a wall to lean on...

“Ah, Young Kaminari, we’re going shopping!” Yagi smiled down at Kaminai. “Specifically shopping for you. You’re taking the UA recommendation exam, correct?”

Kaminari had an annoyed glint in his eye as soon as the word ‘UA’ left Yagi’s mouth. “I’ve been signed up for it, yes. Whether I take it or not is a matter of personal belief.”

Yagi sighed. Kaminari was just as difficult as Aizawa, sometimes worse. “I’m sure you’ll end up taking the exam. You’ll be a great hero someday, my boy!” He had to ignore Kaminari’s scoff. He was used to it by now.

“Mmm. Sure, Yagi.” Kaminari looked around the city disinterestedly. “What’s first on the agenda?” He took a few steps forward, leaping up to squat on a lamppost. Yagi looked up to stare at him, an amused look on his face.

“We’re going clothes shopping. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how small that jacket is on you.” He shook his head, chuckling. “I shouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Kaminari hung from the lamppost, raising his eyebrow. “I’ll have you know I’m not really the type to change outfits.”

“Do you even have the money to buy another outfit?”

“...No.”

Yagi sighed, smiling slightly. “Come, Young Kaminari. We can find you a replacement for that jacket.”

Kaminari’s clothes were evidently very wet, very old, and very dirty. He wore a pair of jeans that only reached to just under his knees and a black t-shirt that was probably white at some point. Over this, he only a thin grey jacket, so small that it looked as if ready to rip at any moment. Yagi worried for Kaminari sometimes. Being homeless obviously did nothing for his financial security.

The streets were large and extremely busy. Yagi sometimes lost track of Kaminari in the crowd, the boy slipping between people with all the grace of a shadow. One moment he’d spot Kaminari standing by the wall, waiting for Yagi to catch up, the next he’d be perching on a roof.

It was almost disturbing how no-one but Yagi seemed to notice Kaminari’s movements and strange spots to wait for the man to catch up. Perhaps it was a natural instinct. If someone looked dirty and homeless, people ignored them, no matter how impressive their balance and agility were.

Koken Masuzoe, called ‘Masu’ by all those who knew him well, was a tailor by profession and a hero by heart. Yagi had gone to UA at the same time as him, Masu being placed in the support department, but the two eventually becoming friends after the sports festival in their first year. Masu had specialised in weaponizing hero costumes, and he’d confessed to Yagi that all he wanted was to create outfits to aid the heroes in their saving of people.

Masu was quirkless, one of a very select few in the country, only allowed to stay due to his outstanding prowess with a needle and thread. Masu had made Yagi’s own hero costume, back in the day. Masu was a man that Yagi trusted both as a friend and a valuable resource to heroes, someone who worked on UA’s own costume making team. Plus, Masu’s prices were cheap.

Yagi wasn’t exactly the richest hero in the world, even if he was the most famous. All his money was spent on medical care. Having a friend in the clothes industry was possibly one of the best things for him.

OoOoOoO

Kakashi Hatake’s first impression of Koken Masuzoe was that the man was eccentric. Hell- eccentric was perhaps too weak of a word. Masu’s appearance was stranger than if Gai had suddenly turned emo. That is, unbelievably weird. 

The man wore a purple cloak covered with bells that rang whenever he moved, paired with knee-high bright orange boots and lime green joggers. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hair was bright blue, the same colour as his eyes. And- was this man wearing makeup?

“Ah! Masu! Long-time-no-see!” Yagi held out his hand to the strange tailor, and he took it, the two looking over their clasped hands with large smiles. 

“Ah, Yagi! Been a short minute! How’s the costume? Need sewing up?” The man wriggled an eyebrow at Yagi. Kakashi leant against the door, hands behind his head. It was obvious that the man hadn’t yet noticed him.

“Ah, no, though I suspect once I begin teaching in September I’ll be needing a brand new set!” Yagi turned to gesture at Kakashi. “I’m looking for a new outfit for Young Kaminari here!”

Kakashi sighed, and stepped forward almost involuntarily. The man’s outfit choice made him rather sick. Did the man not care for practicality, or blending in? 

“Ooh! It’s not everyday I get a new customer! Now, Kaminari-San, is it? What’re we thinking?” The man grinned a massive grin at Kakashi that wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of Naruto. He looked to the ceiling for a second, pondering. “I think I could definitely see you in pink… Maybe a splash of purple here and there… You’ll have to get rid of the mask, obviously, too. The headband can probably stay, though you may want to push it up a bit, my boy!”

Kakashi sighed. Yagi looked worried. Masu didn’t seem to realise either of the unlikely pair’s discontent, Kakashi for the obscene choice of colour and the mere suggestion that he take off his mask. Yagi for the idea that Kakashi may dropkick his old friend.

“Ah, no,” Said Kakashi, tugging at the side of his mask. “The mask stays.”

Masu looked disheartened. “How old are you, Kaminari-San? Thirteen?”

“Fourteen.”

“Slightly harsh of a comment, Kaminari!” He laughed, a full-on belly laugh that only halted when he realised no others were laughing. “Um… Anyway! What do you say to some kind of jumpsuit, with perhaps a full purple-pink theme?”

Kakashi closed his eyes, already agitated. The image of himself wearing Naruto’s usual ensemble, but in pink and purple instead of orange, crossed his mind and he scowled under the mask. 

“That… Won’t be necessary, Masu. I’m sure young Kaminari has an idea of the outfit he wants to wear, don’t you?”

Kakashi looked at Yagi, rolling his eye. “I do, though perhaps it would be better to go to an actual clothes shop, rather than a hero costume tailor…?” He looked pointedly at the man, not saying his thoughts but conveying them clearly.

This man looks like he escaped from the loony bin. I’m not allowing him anywhere near the outfit I’ll be wearing for the next few years of my life.

“Ah, Kaminari, my boy… I’ll assure you that Masu is perfectly capable of making the casual outfit you’d like!” Kakashi sighed. 

“Eh... Well, first, dump everything. No implicitly bright colours and no jumpsuits.” Kakashi took a few steps forward, and sat upon Masu’s desk, surveying the room with a weary interest. The walls were lined with racks of bags, presumably holding items of clothing, and the windows were filled with floral displays and dresses. Anyone looking in from the outside would have no idea of the insane individual working within. A genius idea, Kakashi realised, though it was probably not the brainchild of the store’s owner. Masu turned to look closer at him, eyes narrowing.

“Mute colours. Blacks, grey and dark greens. Navy too, that’ll probably work. IYou’ll be wanting a new jacket, shirt, trousers and preferably a pair of boots.” Masu turned to the racks of clothes, rifling through. He turned slightly, looking at Kakashi once more. “That’s correct, right?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Close enough. I’d appreciate a certain level of mobility, too. Considering your skill sets, that shouldn’t be overly difficult.”

Masu sighed, a small smile appearing on his face. “You drive a hard bargain, Kaminari-San!”

Kakashi had to stop himself from leaving the shop.


	5. Friends (And other things you can't depend on)

Kakashi Hatake was awoken from his slumber by Rin’s voice. He kept his eyes closed, still too tired to be fully coherent, but listened to her. Who was that other voice? Probably Obito. Slowly, he got up, pushing the blanket off of him. The voices seemed to be coming from outside his house, loud and clear. He resisted the urge to smile. At first, he’d hated his teammates, but neither of them left him alone until he’d grown to trust them with his life.

He slid on some clothes, and headed out to join them on the street. Rin looked up at him as he left the doorstep, grinning. “Hey! You slept for way too long, Kaka-kun!” 

Kakashi sighed, an annoyed look settling on his face. “We have this day off. I can sleep for as long as I want, Nohara.”

Rin outed, punching him in the arm and grabbing his hand, pulling him along. Obito stood, stretching, and smiled at Kakashi. “We should get going! The others’ll be waiting!” He ran ahead, turning backwards to gesture at Rin and Kakashi to follow. Rin pulled the reluctant Kakashi in the same direction.

“...Wait. Others?” Kakashi tried to prise his hand from Rin’s grip as he was tugged forward. “What’re we doing?” 

Rin giggled. “We’re going to explore!” She danced around as she ran, brown hair flying around her smiling face. Kakashi tugged his mask upwards to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!”

A sense of sad nostalgia fell over the young genin. Why was he sad?

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!” (Deja-vu.)

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!” (Why was he sad.)

Why was he sad? Why was he so unfathomably sad?

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!” (He’s not crying. Shinobi aren’t allowed to cry.)

“...Rin…”

What was wrong with him?

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!” (He can’t show emotion. That’s a weakness)

Why was the world repeating itself?

Kakashi finally succumbed to the overwhelming feeling and let the single tear fall down his cheek, the wetness collecting on his mask and making a spot at the top darken.

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!”

She’s dead, isn’t she? Rin’s dead. Kakashi’s mind collapsed, staring at Rin with a lack of hope filling his body.

Obito turned around to look at him. “Hurry up, Ba~ka~shi! I’m not waiting for you!”

Obito? Why Obito? Rin’s dead. Is she dead? No. She’s dead. Kakashi is certain she’s dead. Kakashi killed Rin. She’s dead.

Obito and Rin were standing there, and he had lost them and he had found them and Kakashi was spiraling into an overwhelming sense of despair.

Rin stopped, grinning at him. “C’mon, Kaka-kun!”

His world crumbled beneath her smile.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Todoroki Fuyumi wasn’t an idiot. She was top of her class in everything back in high school, and she’d achieved her goal of becoming a teacher easily. She’d escaped the clutches of an abusive father, and managed to pursue her own path in life. She’d graduated college with higher marks than even those with intelligence quirks.

Todoroki Fuyumi was, by all definitions of the word, a genius.

So why, why on earth, was she at such a loss for words?

She’d woken up that Saturday morning with no particular activity in mind. Her friends had gone on a trip together which she’d had to miss due to work, leaving her alone. She had no essays left to mark, no shows she particularly wanted to watch, and there was absolutely no way in hell that she was going to visit her dear old dad.

And so, Todoroki Fuyumi, oldest known Todoroki sibling, found herself aimlessly wandering down the street outside her house.

She pondered, as she walked, what exactly she could do. It wasn’t often that she found herself without any commitments. She briefly debated the idea of going shopping, but then vetoed that thought, remembering how broke she was. She paused outside a cornershop before popping in, the bell ringing to indicate her entrance.

“Oh! Fuyumi-chan!” She turned, a smile on her face, to greet the elderly woman who worked behind the counter.

“Ah, Ayamaki-San, how are you?” She walked through the shop, stopping at the cold foods aisle. Her eyes came to a packaged sandwich, and she picked it up, turning it over to check the price. 

“Quite alright, thanks!” The woman smiled, her face creasing up. “Don’t worry about paying for the sandwich. It’s on the house.”

Fuyumi’s eyes widened and she whipped around fully to stare at Ayamaki. “Oh! A-are you sure? I couldn’t possibly-” She moved to put the sandwich, buy Ayamaki caught her eye and smiled yet again.

“No, it’s fine. Although, I wouldn’t mind if you could help me with a favour?” 

Fuyumi blushed at the elderly woman’s kindness, and nodded eagerly, wanting to repay her.

“There’s a young boy, I’m mostly sure that he’s homeless, he comes here around this time and I’ll give him something to eat… He hasn’t been around for a couple of days and I’m worried…” She frowned, and Fuyumi’s heart crumpled.

A young boy? Homeless? Fuyumi herself taught younger students and she couldn’t bring herself to imagine if one of them lost their home. 

“O-of course, Ayamaki-San I’ll go and look for him! Do you have a name, or-” Fuyumi smiled brightly at her.

Ayamaki smiled back. “Thank you, my dear. He calls himself…. Kakashi, I believe.”

“Right! Kakashi… Kakashi…” Fuyumi recognised the name Kakashi, though she wasn’t at all sure where from. “I’ll find him, and bring him back here! I’d hate for a young boy to go hungry!”

Ayamaki nodded. “I trust you, Fuyumi-Chan.”

Fuyumi ate her sandwich as she walked, surveying the streets for any sign of a young boy without any supervision. From what Ayamaki had told her, he was the same age as her youngest sibling, Shouto, and that scared her perhaps more than anything else. Imagining Shouto homeless, scavenging for food and living in doorsteps, made her feel sick.

The issue was that the idea of Shouto becoming homeless was more than just an idea. It was a possible reality. If he failed to get into UA, or angered him, or a million other possibilities, Fuyumi knew the pro hero would toss him out just as easily as he did her. She shuddered, thinking back to the scared boy he’d been when she’d left. She wanted to see Shouto again- she really did- but she was scared of what would happen if she did.

Right. Kakashi. 

She turned her thoughts away from her little brother and restarted her search, keeping a brisk pace as she surveyed the street. An old man fed morsels of bread to a flock of pigeons. A family exited their house and headed in the direction of the park. A middle aged woman sat on her balcony, reclining on a deckchair in the fleeting moment of sun. 

No young boy in sight.

Fuyumi softly swore under her breath. She wondered if the boy would be in one of the numerous back alleys. That was a certain possibility, considering his homeless nature. She turned the corner, and ducked into the nearest sidealley, narrowing her eyes.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” 

The alley was dark, a stark contrast to the sunny day of the outside. Various things obstructed the light, creating an almost roof over the narrow pathway. A perfect place for a homeless person to sleep if Fuyumi had ever seen one. She took a few steps deeper into the darkness. 

“Hello? I’m looking for a… Kakashi?”

A whip of air. Fuyumi turned, quirk, eyes wide. She could hear breathing from somewhere around her. “H-hello…?”

Suddenly, she could feel something cold and sharp and very, very real pushed against her throat. She stopped breathing, and stood extremely still, calming her impulse to ice the weapon. That was illegal. She wasn’t allowed to attack her ambusher. 

“Where’d you get that name?”

The voice was smooth and sharp, yet young sounding. Realisation dawned upon her. This person had to be the Kakashi she’d been told about. She forced herself to breathe, the air goming out in short gasps as she avoided the blade grazing her throat.

The ambusher drew the knife away slightly. In the darkness, it was impossible for Fuyumi to see the person (Kakashi?)’s face.   
“Answer me.”

She found it almost impossible to speak, and when she did, it was with an inevitable stutter.

“I-I-I-i w-was sent by A-a-ayamaki-San… A-at the cornershop…”

The knife dropped. Fuyumi breathed a small sigh of relief. She turned around to finally see her ambusher, framed by the light from the alley entrance.

He was short, not overly short, but shorter than her, certainly. His wild shock of yellow hair was held upwards by a navy headband that fell over his right eye. A mask covered his nose and mouth and extended down, covering his neck. He wore a dark green sleeveless jacket over a grey long-sleeve t-shirt. His jeans were ripped and torn despite looking relatively new.

The boy stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at Fuyumi with a single half-lidded eye. 

“Yo.” He leant back into the air. Fuyumi’s eyes widened in half-awe, half-terror.

“Y-you’re Kakashi… Then?”

He nodded, shrugging. “Yeah. What’s Aya want with me?” 

Fuyumi couldn’t take her eyes off him. That mask paired with the headband covered up any recognisable facial features spare for a single eye and a small slither of skin. His hair was wild- so obvious when compared to his mysterious appearance. Everything about him seemed so lazy and calm yet his whole aura screamed danger.

She shivered.

“I-i think she’s worried about you…” Fuyumi couldn’t help the stutter. She was scared, utterly terrified of this boy despite him being a little under ten years younger than her. She was tense, ready to attack if he came any closer.

“Ah. Okay. Tell her I’m fine.” Kakashi’s visible eye curled up into a curve. “Bless her, Aya’s such a sweetie.” 

Fuyumi wondered what had happened to the cold-blooded ambusher she’d seen just moments earlier. This Kakashi seemed generally a lot more calm and understanding than before. She tried to say something else, curious about this terrifying, calm homeless boy. And yet, as Kakashi leapt up and out of sight, she found nothing to say.

Todoroki Fuyumi was, by all definitions of the word, a genius.

So why, why on earth, was she at such a loss for words?

OoOoOoOoO

Bakugou Katsuki was going to be a hero.

He was determined, utterly set on that goal. Katsuki wanted the fame, the wealth, the power, the status… Katsuki wanted it all. He wanted to save people, and he wanted them to revere him as their saviour and their hero and their God.

Bakugou Katsuki wanted to become the number 1 hero, the symbol of peace. He wanted to finally rule over other people in order to make the world a better place.

He had good intentions, really. All he wanted was to save the world.And yet every time he tried to carry out his plan he was met with glares and hatred and terror. He’d had close friends at one point, but eventually the faces of his classmates seemed to bleed into one another. Just another group of extras in the movie that was his life.

And then there was Deku.

He’d cared about Deku at some point. Really cared about him. They’d been close as brothers, never seen without the other. But that had all changed when Deku had revealed himself to be quirkless. The quirkless were weak, without the power to do anything.They were useless to society, and there was never going to be a quirkless hero.

Deku had promised him that they were going to become heroes together. He’d sworn upon their friendship that they would become heroes and save people, and when Deku announced to him, in choked sobs, that he was quirkless, Katsuki had felt betrayed.

Katsuki had trusted Deku. He had been close to Deku.

In a way? Katsuki missed Deku. He missed having close friends and smiles and times with people who didn’t just hang off his every word. But what he didn't miss was simply being one of the crowd, yet another useless extra. Katsuki knew he was special. He knew that he would be the one to save the world from the dark place into which it had fallen. Katsuki would never be dismissed so easily by anyone.

Because Katsuki was scared of rejection. He was scared of being weak and scared of being ignored. He hated other people, hated those extras, and yet he had to rely on them for anything he did. Even if he acted independently, other people would build his life and career. Katsuki hated to depend on others yet was forced to depend on others for survival. And so, he became convinced that he should be the one that others would depend on.

He didn’t want to depend on anyone. Not his mother, not Deku, not the heroes. No-one. His anger overtook him, thinking of the idea of actually depending on his Mom for anything. Never his Mom. Never.

Katsuki slammed his fist into the wall, sparks flying from the imprint he put into the plaster. It cracked under his force, the white paint crisping and burning with his steaming fist. His teeth bared, ignoring the pain from his steaming knuckles, blood pouring out of a nick on the back of his hand. A hiss escaped his lips as he bared the pain, a fresh wave of anger quickly overtaking him.

He let out a few deep breaths before pulling his fist away, attempting to calm down. He surveyed the wall with a grim look of bitterness. Every meter or so of clean wall was marred by a new fist mark, burns spreading out around them creating a criss crossing pattern of browns and blacks and the occasional dark crimson of leftover blood. Katsuki resisted the urge to punch the wall yet again.

He turned, ducking under his bed and grabbing the first aid kit. His first leaked more blood which, in turn, dripped onto the carpet of his bedroom. Katsuki swore softly, as he opened up the kit and drew out a roll of crisp white bandages, wrapping them around his hand again and again and again. 

His fist hurt, but it took the edge off his anger. Katsuki slowly calmed, breathing steadily. Downstairs, he could hear shouts. Probably his parents arguing again. Katsuki sank down against the wall, clutching his fist and trying to hold back the tears prickling at his eyes. If he cried, he’d be ruining the whole image he’d built.

A buzz of his phone. Katsuki took one final deep breath, and grabbed it, checking the caller id. Takamaki-kun. He declined the call with a sigh. Takamaki had been his friend when he was younger, then moved away to Akihabara. Katsuki had met the boy again only a week ago and they’d exchanged numbers. He couldn’t bother to talk to Takamaki, though. He was yet another extra with a weak quirk.

Another shout from downstairs and then a bang. Katsuki recoiled, paling. He stood, quickly, and rushed to the door, opening it as quietly as possible. From there, he crept to the landing, crouching to look between the rungs of the staircase.

Dad was drunk again. Katsuki could smell it in the air and see it in his staggered walking. Mom looked angry, her teeth bared in a snarl that matched Katsuki’s just a few moments earlier. Katsuki shuddered. He needed to get out. He headed straight back to his bedroom and prised his window open, slipping through the gap and dropping down into the garden with a practised ease.

“...K-Kacchan?” Katsuki whipped around at the familiar nickname, eyes wide. Deku. 

The greenette was standing on the path outside the garden, staring at him, bewildered. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed in a glare. 

“Deku, what the hell are you doing here?!” He shoved his injured hand into his back pocket. “Get. Out.” His voice was strained, anger evident. Deku didn’t move.

“Y-you’re hurt! Kacchan!” He hopped over the fence, just as he’d used to do when they were kids. “I-I can h-help!”

Katsuki backed away, a scowl on his face. “I told you to GET OUT, YOU EXTRA!” His free hand sparked with nitroglycerin. Deku backed away, looking terrified. 

“I-I-I- K-amin- I- He- You-” Deku couldn’t speak a single word for terror. Katsuki continued glaring.

“WHO?”

Deku paused, taking in gasps of breath. “H-him… H-e told me I-I should t-t-try to m-make it up to y-y-ou… F-friends…”

Katsuki closed in on Deku, but the smaller boy was too scared to speak any more. He smacked Izuku around the head with his sparking hand, then again.

As if Katsuki could ever be friends with an extra.


End file.
